


Fading Ash

by dearcaspian



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearcaspian/pseuds/dearcaspian
Summary: Years after the Masquerade, six friends return to the lazaret one last time to put an end to its history and help something new grow from the ashes.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak/Nadia
Kudos: 6





	Fading Ash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleAprilFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAprilFlowers/gifts).

> A mini ficlet for LittleAprilFlowers! It features our canon world state with her apprentice Yvenne, who did Julian's route, and my apprentice Caspir, who did Asra's.

In the shadow of the dying oak tree, the pale white bones jut from the dark earth, like they were planted there to grow anew. They were not the only ones. Scattered about the barren clearing lay other piles - some hidden among the gnarled roots of tree trunks, yellowed by the shade, others strewn in crumbling pieces and bleached clean by the unyielding heat of the sun. Perhaps the remains could be mistaken for animal bones, if a passerby were to gaze right over them without a second thought. For those on the island, no level of convincing would be quite enough.

Caspir lifts their head and takes a deep breath. Even after all the years past, the air still smelled of ash. Memories of their visit here with Asra were burned stark into their memory. Yet, in the smallest of spaces, they detected change: to their left, the fresh green of an infant bud on the cusp of a new bloom; up ahead, a handful of four leaf clovers, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.

Time had transformed the lazaret into a place just beginning to hint at life. To them it was hard to shake the image of a graveyard.

“Are these ours?” they say, nudging a boot into the soft soil beside the nearest bone.

Asra rests a heavy hand on their shoulder. From their perspective it was only the second time they had set foot on the somber shore. For Asra, it was his third.

He gives no indication of an answer. His eyes focus with a brief intensity at the earth before he turns away, softly pats their arm, kisses the side of their cheek. Caspir supposes it is answer enough.

“Time to give you a proper burial, I suppose,” they whisper, and begin to prepare their part of the spell.

It is no small thing to be faced with one’s own mortality. Since their resurrection they had come up against it during countless occasions, and every instance was no easier than the last. Seeing one’s own former body was another matter entirely. Caspir didn’t know exactly how to take it.

Neither did Yvenne. She nudges her elbow into their arm, communicating all she didn’t have the words to say. Caspir nudges her gently back.

Behind them on the shore wait Nadia and Portia, their distance self imposed out of respect. Everyone in Vesuvia became involved with the plague at some point, yet the Countess and her wife knew their connection to the lazaret was not the subject of today’s visit. Asra had invited them up but they declined, content to stay by the beach. 

Julian’s shadow announces his presence before they hear the scuffle of his feet. He runs a hand through his tousled hair and smiles nervously.

“Ready?” Yvenne says. He nods, and the four of them join hands.

They form an unbroken wall, seeking strength in each other. Magic flows from every limb, coalescing into the warmth where their fingers link. A wave of white light pulses outward from where they stand, racing faster and faster across the landscape the farther it goes. To the husk of the trees and the insects burrowing into the sand, it makes no difference. In the watchful eyes of the magicians, it starts to wash the bloody past of the lazaret slowly away.

Each bone touched by the light quivers where they lay, glowing faintly gold - then the edges fade to black, reminiscent of the soot once coating the entire island, and in the air they float away. Caspir watches the remnants drift, swallowed up by the cool wind, and then looks farther out to see more bones disappearing, their molecules perhaps not returning to the souls they once structured, but reuniting with some part of the world nonetheless.

It was not a traditional Vesuvian funeral, but it was the best they could do. It felt fitting. The land would likely remain uninhabited for the rest of time, a scar left to be reclaimed by nature and reborn.

The four give one another bittersweet, proud smiles. Nadia and Portia come and link themselves to the line. Julian kisses the top of Yvenne’s head. Something horrible once happened here, and then something quietly indescribable had come to finally put the memories of the lazaret to rest. In this they could take refuge that the last piece of the past they shared would haunt them no longer.

No one had much of anything to say. What was left to acknowledge?

Caspir takes a deep breath. The scent of ash is almost gone. In its place they smell the ocean air, clean and hopeful.

“Okay,” says Asra. “Let’s go home.”

  
  
  



End file.
